


the ground hangs heavy

by cuddlecorps (bluedreaming)



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Blood, Happy Ending, M/M, Razors, Self-Mutilation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 14:25:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5459711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluedreaming/pseuds/cuddlecorps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's when he's taking a shower, half groggy with sleep but determined to clear his head and crush a looming paper into submission, that he first realizes what's happening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the ground hangs heavy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [florisuga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/florisuga/gifts).



> The title is modified from Panic! At the Disco's [Far too Young to Die](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0f71XfN_DLI).  
>  **Note:** I know the warnings in the additional tags section are a little scary, but I promise it all makes sense and is okay.

 

_If you were born without wings,_   
_do nothing_   
_to prevent them from growing.”_   
―[Coco Chanel](http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/51263)

 

He doesn't notice it at first, busy with papers and exams, rushing from class to the library to his dorm where he bends his head over homework until it's far too early in the morning before he slips into a daze somewhere around three in the morning before he wakes up to his phone shrieking as it vibrates angrily off the table, clattering onto the carpet that's far too thin to muffle the thud of its landing.

And if his back starts to ache sometimes, quick flashes of pain across his shoulderblades, a tearing feeling that wakes him up before his alarm and he blinks around blearily before he gets up to shower, Daehyun figures that's just what university is. No pain, no gain, or whatever it is people say.

"You look like shit," Youngjae says, far too cheerfully, as they head into a class that starts at the ungodly hour of eight o'clock in the morning. Daehyun wonders, idly, if he's managed to sleep ten hours all week. He has, right? _Don't you die if you don't get enough sleep?_ He's too tired to remember.

"We have a quiz on Tuesday," he says, to deflect Youngjae's scrutiny, and the sudden swearing that results, since Youngjae has predictably mixed up the dates, gives Daehyun time to blink a few times, shake out his arms from the pinched position he'd woken up in, face pressed to his textbook as usual, and take a sip of coffee or whatever it is. His back twinges. He ignores it. Life goes on.

 

 

 

 

It's when he's taking a shower, half groggy with sleep but determined to clear his head and crush a looming paper into submission, that he first realizes what's happening. He slips, the floor of the shower cubicle slick with leaking shampoo from a bottle he's neglected to replace, and the guilty bottle flies out of his grasp, somehow bouncing out of the shower and bounching across the floor before landing against the far wall, lid cracked against the tile. Daehyun swears under his breath, slightly less sleepy and infinitely more frustrated, and steps out of the shower to hunt the bottle down as it skids out of his slippery grasp.

When he straightens, there's a sharp stab of pain over his shoulder blades, _or in them_ he thinks, confused, hand grabbing for the porcelain of the sink before the pain dissolves. The mirror is fogged, but there's a strange feeling across his back, it feels like there's something there, and he reaches out with a shaking hand to wipe away the condensation on the reflective surface. It's hard to see his back, twisting his neck over his shoulder at an almost painful angle, and the feeling of something brushing his skin only increases, sending a burst of panic as he cranes his neck over and finally sees what's probably only his imagination—

Daehyun blinks, frozen in the foggy dampness of the bathroom, air heavy with a feeling he can't quite shape. There, over his shoulder blades, have somehow sprouted wings.

 

 

 

 

"Are you okay?" Youngjae sounds more concerned than usual, and Daehyun frowns, unconsciously keeping his back turned away towards the wall even though he can feel the strips of electrical tape holding the wings pressed tightly to his skin. They chafe, aching in a way that feels like he's been sleeping on his arm for too long and it's gone numb. The adhesive on the tape is itchy too, rubbing against his skin and he's pretty sure there are a few raw patches over the bone. He hides a wince behind a smile that can't quite reach his eyes.

"I'm just tired," he says, and stares back at Youngjae before he lets the issue drop and heads for the cafeteria, but Daehyun isn't really hungry. He just picks at his plate, rice and minced meat mashed together in an unappetizing lump as he jabs at his pudding with a dessert spoon. Youngjae eyes him, eyelids hooded with frustration, but he doesn't say anything and for that Daehyun is thankful.

They split after eating, Daehyun dumping his mostly untouched food into the wastebin as Youngjae mutters about wasted food, before they each head in opposite directions.

"Bye," Youngjae says, and Daehyun waves, watching the way Youngjae stops himself from saying anything else.

He heads to his next class, but by then then wings are cramping beneath the tape and he feels like he's going crazy, gritting his teeth against the pain, knuckles white as he grasps the edges of his desk and completely misses everything the professor at the whiteboard is saying. When the class finally ends, Daehyun just heads back to his dorm room.

 

 

 

 

He begins by tearing off the electrical tape, biting his tongue as the adhesive grips his skin, tearing at the raw patches, but worse yet is the way it pulls at the soft feathers on the wings, yanking them out with bursts of pain that leave Daehyun gasping, and he knows he can't do this again. His eyes fall on the razor blade he keeps to sharpen his pencils, and before he knows it he's reaching over his shoulder at an impossible angle, hacking at the root of one of his wings as he bites his lip against the pain that's too much to hold back as it escapes his mouth in soft groans.

 _Why did this happen to me?_ he thinks, but he doesn't have any answers, as the blade keeps hacking, staining his hands red.

There's a sudden banging on the door; Daehyun jumps, the blade slipping out of his grasp as he turns towards the sound, no idea who it could be at this hour until he hears Youngjae's voice on the other side, words only barely muffled through the wood.

"Jung Daehyun!" Youngjae demands through the door, "I know you're there! Open this door at once!" There's another thud, but Daehyun doesn't move from the ground, his back still awash with pain; he just hopes that if he's quiet, Youngjae will think there's no one here and leave.

Instead, the door crashes open with a powerful kick, and Youngjae stands in the doorway, breathing heavily and face furrowed with frustration before he sees Daehyun still crouching on the ground, hands stained red.

"What are you doing?" Youngdae shouts, his eyes filling with fear as he darts forward, his gaze encompassing the razor blade on the ground before he sees the feathers, stuck in bloody clumps on the ground.

Daehyun can't look, but he knows what Youngjae is seeing, one wing sprouting from a shoulder blade, the other probably some mess of blood and torn skin. He's glad, suddenly, that he doesn't have a mirror in his room, so that he doesn't have to see the carnage of his mutilated wing.

"What were you thinking?" Youngjae's voice is soft, forgiving, and Daehyun feels so relieved that Youngjae doesn't think he's a monster.

"I just wanted it gone," he says quietly, as his voice hitches and breaks, and he can feel Youngjae carefully folding arms around him in a gentle hug as Daehyun rests his head on Youngjae's shoulder.

"Let me help you," Youngjae says, and Daehyun nods into the fabric of his shirt.

 

 

 

 

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Youngjae asks. Daehyun just grins, sticking out his tongue.

It's been a few months since he found Daehyun, crouched on the floor of his dorm room, trying to hack off his wings, and things have gotten better. Together, they'd figured out a way to gently tuck the wings under Daehyun's clothes, and even though it still sucks, it's not as painful, especially when he can sneak off to his room and let his wings out, relaxing into the feeling of having them stretch out from his shoulder blades. Now that the injured wing has finally healed completely though, Daehyun's been itching to try his wings out.

"But what if you can't fly?" Youngjae asks, eyeing the ground from where they're standing on an abandoned warehouse in a deserted industrial area, because Daehyun isn't ready to take any chances.

"I guess I'll just have to trust," Daehyun replies, and grins. "After all, I ended up trusting you."

Youngjae grumbles, but steps back, arms folded over his chest. "Don't be mad when I say I told you so," he says, his concerned tone belying his flippant words.

"I won't have to," Daehyun says, before he turns back towards the edge, spreads his wings, and takes a leap into the unknown.

_Trusts._

 

**Author's Note:**

> You said you like univeristy au as well as supernatural so I hope this fits the bill. Thanks for the chance to write this!


End file.
